


When I Found You

by KylosWetGlove (Bendu_the_Grey)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Romance, Canon Compliant, Devoted Reylo, Emperor Kylo Ren, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Ghost Anakin Skywalker, Force Ghost Luke Skywalker, Heavy Angst, Hux is Not Nice, Mutual Pining, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Reylo - Freeform, Ruling the Galaxy, Slow Burn, The Force, Virgin Kylo Ren, Virgin Rey, World Between Worlds, balance, cosmic force, finnrose - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2019-08-18 21:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16524737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bendu_the_Grey/pseuds/KylosWetGlove
Summary: It's been six months since the battle on Crait. Six months to the day since Rey and Ben connected through the Force. Or has it? Leia has a plan and seeks out an old friend for help. Rey struggles to come to terms with her decision to leave Ben on the Supremacy and the Supreme Leader himself? Well, Luke did say he'd see him around, didn't he?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Welcome to my new fic! I'm excited to be writing again, and I hope you will enjoy this little slice of Reylo during the drought. I try to be canon compliant at all times, but there may be times where I need to change a small thing here or there to make the story work.   
> I want to give a very special thank you to @disasterism for being my beta and giving me kind words of support! They meant the world to me.
> 
> Enjoy everyone!

The desert moon of Jedha was bitter and cold despite the dry, rust-colored sand that covered the barren landscape. Nevertheless, Leia had left the busy control room to step out and take a breath of fresh air. It was not lost on her that she was standing in a graveyard.

  


She could almost see it, and she didn't need the images of old holos to fill in what the Force around her projected. The Imperial Star Destroyers had dotted the sky, blocking the sun like wraiths as the troops plundered the heart of the star, stealing the kyber crystals that emanated light therein. And when they were finished, when they took everything the star had, they unleashed an unholy weapon upon the sacred site, demolishing it into almost nothing.

  


_Almost._ She inwardly smirked. The Death Star had not claimed all that Jedha was or all of Alderaan; because it had not claimed her.

  


Now the sky was painted a brilliant plasma blue, not a single cloud in sight. For a moment Leia stood in the sunlight and let its golden rays warm her cool skin. She was always cold now, it seemed, ever since she had endured the vast iciness of space a standard year ago. On the outside she smiled and told those closest to her it was just her age, that old people were always cold, but the truth was, it had settled in her bones, a constant warning. Death was near.

  


_Not today,_ she thought defiantly, clenching the rounded top of her cane, _not yet._

  


There was one last thing she had to do, and she would not rest until she saw it through to whatever end the universe decided. Luke, she decided, had a more difficult task ahead of him, and so that left just one other- the man whom she never met but had changed her life would have to once again help her in her final hour. Her heart clenched at the mere acknowledgment of it but she soldiered on, reaching out into the Force with as much strength her body would allow.

  


_Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope._

  


* * *

 

**_Six Standard Months Earlier_ **

  
  


Rey huffed, blowing a stray hair from her eyes, only to have it flop back into place.

  


“Almost there,” she grunted to herself as a single bead of sweat dripped from the tip of her nose onto the durasteel floor. Her shoulder ached as she pressed all her body weight against the metal pipes, scraping against a splintered durasteel column Ignoring the burning sensation, she pushed further. The small auxiliary power cell brushed against her fingertips.  


“Come on, Rey, it’ll feed you for a week,” she grumbled through gritted teeth.

A sickening whine echoed throughout the destroyer. She’d know that sound anywhere and her heart jumped into her throat. The star destroyers had stood in the sands for thirty years; five years ago, the durasteel, rusted and eaten alive by the elements, had begun to buckle and collapse. It was time to go, there was no predicting which support beam would give first-- but she needed this. If she could only rest for a day or two without worrying about food.  


_“Won’t matter if you're dead,”_ a voice in her head reminded her.  


The same voice that had gotten her out of similar situations in the past. The voice of reason, she had come to call it.  


She pulled her arm out from between the paneling and had just begun to hastily pack her tools into her satchel when she felt it-- a small tremor through the durasteel grates. Her stomach plummeted, and she froze-- afraid to move, afraid to breathe.  


_“Rey!”_ The voice called, louder and more frantic than ever before.

 _Too late,_ was the last rational thought to pop into her mind before the floor gave way and sent her falling into the darkness.

  


*******

  


Rey rolled abruptly, hitting the cold, hard metal floor with a muffled thud. The sheets had tangled around her legs, forcing her to struggle to sit upright. She angrily kicked them off her legs.

The room was dark except for the light coming from the crack at the bottom of the door. She wasn't used to sleeping in a bed or a room, nevermind one with climate control. On Ahch-To she had a hard slab of stone, on Jakku she had a comfortable but cramped hammock. Slowly she rose from the floor and sat on the edge of the creaky mattress, rubbing her face, and then her hands wandered to her arm.  


The wound from the vibroblade had not fully healed, but that isn't what pained her. Every time she dressed, or looked in a mirror she was reminded of that day,  the desperate breathless, _please._

 

The chrono read 0200. She groaned sleepily; her shift in the hanger wouldn't start for at least three more hours. Over the last several days the hangar had become a sort of sanctuary where she could avoid the stares and whispers. They called her the Jedi, their savior, the hero of Crait. She didn't feel like any of those things. For one, Luke had not properly trained her except for those few lessons; two, all she did was move rocks; and, three, it didn't feel heroic fighting someone she—  


Rey flopped back down onto the bed and stared into the darkness. She thought about _him_ even though she knew she shouldn’t. Her hand crept back up to the wound on her shoulder and she traced the outline of what she knew would leave a scar. They both had one now, his more violent than hers. Acquired as they fought against and with one another. He may not have marked her as she had him, but the moment shared through the force had. It had not gone unnoticed that her scar resembled two hands reaching out for one another. But that was silly, and childish wasn't it? It was just the same as seeing a face in a portion or a loth cat in a cloud. She was ridiculous, right?  


Rey exhaled in frustration and rolled to her side and stared at the light at the bottom of the door.  


They hadn’t connected through the Force since Crait, six standard months ago. It felt like forever.

_Does he hate me?_

She shouldn’t care either way.

But his eyes were not something easily forgotten, nor was the betrayal and confusion he held within them as she reached for the lightsaber. He had begged her to stay with him and yet, she left him.  

_Just like they left me._

But he wasn't Ben, she reminded herself. It was the same internal argument she wrestled with every time she woke up like this. It wasn't easy for her to deny that she wanted to chase after the future she desired, the one the Force had shown her that fateful night by the fire, the very one that had propelled her like a blazing comet across the Galaxy to seek out the man who could make it real, all of it. But that’s not how the Force works. Even so, she couldn’t quite bring herself to regret her choice.

He _had_ needed her help, and now he was free, no longer a prisoner of Snoke and master of his own fate. She sought solace in the fact that Ben, for the first time in a long time, could make his own choices with no coercion or threat of death looming over him. Nevertheless, the guilt of walking away from him was tearing her apart.

The unity they shared sang a beautiful hymn of light and dark. It coursed through her veins when they touched, it burned hotter and brighter than a supernova as they fought for each other. But when it had ended in a chorus of flame and ruin, Rey remembered how she found it hard to breathe, her heart had squeezed tight, constricting as if it were trying to cower away from the emptiness that had come to swallow it whole.

No one, not even Leia, knew what happened in the throne room or that Rey had even been aboard the Supremacy. Although she sensed Leia didn’t believe a word of her story, and she never said otherwise. But it wasn't all a lie, Rey told herself, she did try to convince Luke to come back with her, and when he refused, she left, ending up on Crait just in time. It was better this way, wasn't it? Even if she explained how she and Ben fought together, other types of questions would soon follow— why was she there, why would he betray his Master for her? How did she get away? She couldn't tell them that she and Ben shared a bond, that her minds had connected across the stars and allowed her to speak with him, to see him-- to touch him.  


Did it even matter? She didn't even know if she’d ever see him again. The bond had remained silent ever since she ever since she closed the door on him.  


_Had she made a mistake?_

There was no reason to lie awake worrying about something she had no control of. So, she got up and put on her mechanics jumper and headed towards the hanger.  


When she stepped through the bay doors, she was met with a flurry of activity. Had she read the chrono wrong, was she late? Rose stood atop a stack of crates directing the ground crew that appeared to be on standby for an-- old Alderaan Cruiser? Rey had only seen those in scavenged holos.  Poe stood at attention with Leia by his side as the engines powered down, and the ramp unfolded before them. An older, tall gentleman appeared in the entryway, straight-backed, in a white and grey freshly pressed uniform, hands tucked behind him.  


A chill ran over Rey, but it was not a result of the climate control or lack thereof in the hanger. Her feet propelled her forward before she knew what she was doing. She couldn't place it, but she had seen this man before--  


“Rey!” Rose called, jumping in front of her obscuring the view of the new stranger, “you're up early.”  


“So are you, Rey answered, peering over Rose’s shoulder. “What’s going on? Who is that?”

  


* * *

 

Ben wandered into a dark, vacant hallway, unsure of where he was or how he got there. It resembled a star destroyer but it was old and oddly warm.  The air smelled of rusted metal, so thick he could almost taste it. Some of the walls were folded in on themselves; it made him wonder how or what could make durasteel wrinkle like a piece of parchment.  


“A crash perhaps?” he mumbled as the rational part of his brain worked to calculate how he could have survived. Had he been knocked unconscious? But-- the pressurization and space-- that didn't make sense. How long had he been out?    


His footsteps echoed in the darkness as he turned down another corridor.

_Where am I?_

Before he could reflect any further on his predicament he halted in his tracks-- a beam of light peered through the wreckage, illuminating the end of the hallway, and then he saw her-- Rey. She was right there, in front of him, as if she had materialized out of thin air, and not a moment too soon he suddenly realized he stood at the edge of a chasm. His stomach flipped and he took a step back. The star destroyer had broken in half, and he could go no further.

Rey, looked different but the same, dressed in her desert garb, her hair tied back into the three little buns. And even though he could not reach her, he was close enough to observe her scrunched up nose and the wrinkle between her brows that he had come to know as a sign of determination and annoyance.  His heart skipped a beat but he ignored it. Instead, he silently observed her, following her train of thought through the Force.

She was trying and failing to extract an auxiliary power cell that had pushed itself far back into the wall as a result of the crash.

 _Why doesn't she just use the Force?_ he pondered and almost said as much to her, but he was silenced by a deafening metallic groan.

A spike of fear registered in the Force, emanating from Rey. He knew-- because she knew-- that the particular corridor they were in was at risk of collapse, but she didn't move. _The fool_ , too concerned with a stupid part, just so she could eat and rest.

 _Won’t matter if you're dead._ he said-- shouted-- through the Force, hoping that would jar her out of whatever foolish headspace she was in, but she barely flinched, as if she hadn't heard him or, worse, she was ignoring him.

He worked his jaw in preparation for yelling at her for being an idiot--He sensed the tremor in the walls before he physically registered it. The floor they were standing on was about to give.  


“Rey!” he screamed, but the wailing cries from the bones of the destroyer drowned him out. He was too late.

When he tried to yell her name again, Ben couldn't breathe, could barely think, all he could feel were rough, calloused fingers clawing their way up his neck trying to twist and break his windpipe.   Instinctively his hands flew to his throat, and he jerked upward into the sitting position, gasping for air.

*******

It took a few moments for him to catch his breath and for the fog of sleep to lift— and then he… he remembered.

Snoke was dead, he had killed him and taken his place. Rey came to him— no, she betrayed him.

He clenched his bed sheet with his fists. Would he ever get a good night's rest?

Somehow, her face always found his. Sometimes in dreams where she would take his hand and say she’ll always stay by his side. In his nightmares, she would call him a monster and he would make good on his promise to destroy her. This was the first time it was somewhere in between.  


He ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair as the blur of hyperspace hurtled by the viewport of his bedroom, painting it in flickering, pale blue light. In the past it would lull him to sleep, offering him a small reprieve from his torment. Now, even the chronometer on the nightstand taunted him with its endless ticks. 0200. A reminder that not even sleep would save him now.  


It had been six standard months since the Battle of Crait, that was one hundred and eighty-three agonizing days since he last saw her, but who was counting, right? He tried to stay angry, he really did, but whatever fight he had left remained in the mine of the red mineral planet.  


The Force had shown him the future, _their_ future. How could it have gone so wrong, so fast?

 

_You're nothing... but not to me._

 

He had played that conversation over and over again in his mind. _I shouldn't have said that_. The painful look in her eyes haunted him even now.  


“Force, you’re an idiot sometimes, Solo,” he grumbled into the air.  


But the truth was, he _had_ meant it. The glimpse of Rey’s past-- what was done to her, the horrifying reality of the abandonment-- was different from his in circumstance but the same when it came to pain. Rey wanted to belong; she wanted a place in the universe, a family. He had those things, a title, a name, one that he was willing to share with only her.  But he also knew her desire for it was her Achilles heel, and he had exploited her weakness, had used it as a crutch, not believing she would stay with him any other way, because what else did he have to offer her?  


“Your heart would’ve been a good start,” a familiar voice echoed from somewhere inside his room.  


Instantly he was a ten-year-old boy again pulling his bedsheets to his chin frozen in fear at what lingered in the dark.

  
Chills ran over his bare clammy arms. It wasn't a matter of _if_ Luke would make good on his promise but _when_ , and it seemed as if the bill had come due.

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late update, but there is good news! The next 5 chapters are already written! They are going through edits (special shout out to my wonderful betas @disasterisms and @rebelrebel) and I hope to post updates on a weekly basis. To everyone who gave me a kudos and a comment thank you! I will be replying to all of those very soon.  
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

“Who’s that?” Rey asked.

 

 

Before Rose could answer, a large stack of pallets fell over onto the duracrete floor with a loud echoing bang, startling everyone into a brief moment of silence.

 

 

“Hey! Get that lift away from the munitions! Do you wanna blow us all the way to the Unknown Regions?” Rose yelled as she ran over to a recruit who didn’t know how to steer a lift, leaving Rey’s question unanswered. By the time the excitement ended the unknown man had vanished along with Poe and Leia.

 

 

Everyone’s reaction to the fallen pallets was not without cause. They had attempted to build a ground base on Yavin-4 after Crait and then another on Ryloth.  Within six weeks of both moves, the First Order had found them and bombarded them first with electro-proton bombs, scrambling most of their droids’ circuits, then with seismic charges, destroying what little munitions and spacecraft they had scavenged- along with their hearing. Rey swore she could still hear a bit of ringing in her ears. Luckily for the droids, both her and Rose could change out fried chips. They began  with BB-8 who happily helped repair his friends R2D2 and 3PO. It had taken another week to repair what was left of the others. 

 

 

This was their third attempt.  After spending four weeks in space looking for a new starting point Lothal was where they finally made planetfall. From the moment Rey saw the planet she loved it. The smell of buttercups always carried in the warm breeze.  There were grassy fields as far as the eye could see and Lothcats whose curiosity she found endearing became her new favorite thing.  So far it had sustained them for eight whole weeks. Even so, the entire base remained on edge, as if they were well aware at some point the other shoe would drop.  Most of the crew seemed to tamper down the feelings of hopelessness by constantly working. A tactic Rey was all too familiar with.

 

 

Rey shrugged and diverted her attention back to the hangar, which had resumed its regular routine, complete with the sounds of drills and engines churning. Remarkably the noise soothed her. She grabbed her tool bag from her storage locker and made her way down the center of the hangar. The anxiety and restlessness she had felt in her quarters finally lifted when she glanced over at an old black and red T-65 X-wing Starfighter. It sat in the center of the hangar under an old patchwork tarp when they arrived.

_A_ _rusted_ _bucket_ _of_ _bolts_ , Poe had said, along with— well, everyone else— but Rey could see the potential. It continued to be a small pet project when she wasn't helping Chewie. It kept her mind from wandering.

 

 

Life seemed so much simpler when she was fixing things. She smiled to herself at the thought. When she finished up with Chewie today she was most definitely going to tinker with the old X-wing.

 

 

The Falcon’s turret was still damaged and Chewie was having a hard time repairing it, especially since he had to contend with several other feathered problems that had taken refuge in the many crevasses aboard the old freighter.

 

 

Porgs— tiny feathered animals with very curious dispositions— had taken a liking to the Wookiee, much to his dismay  . They were lovable and adorable creatures, but also destructive.  Chewie would fix one problem only to find another where they had pulled out electrical wires and insulation from the walls for more nesting materials  .  The two of them had worked side by side salvaging what they could, relocating nests out of the engine room and into the crews quarters for the time being. They’d have to take them back to Ahch-To, or the Falcon wouldn't survive.

 

 

When Rey boarded the Falcon, Chewie and R2 were already in a tangled mess of what appeared to be bonding tape.

 

 

“Whoa, you two need some help with that?”

 

 

Chewie whined as two porglets popped out from behind the wall paneling, and R2 replied with a few choice surly beeps that she had only heard around Niima. 

 

 

Rey knelt down beside her friend and began to untangle the tape from around his legs and arms, taking care not to harm the feathered babies that nestled close to the Wookiee. 

 

 

“R2, can you run a diagnostic?” Rey asked as she snipped the tape from around the droid, freeing him.

 

 

The old droid gave her a curt robotic nod and rolled away, chirping to himself about how he was getting too old for this sort of mess.

 

 

When the readout came back she and Chewie began the painstaking meticulous task of taping up the Falcon’s oxygen lines and filtration system. 

 

 

She had grown closer to Chewie as he was the only one who knew what she had done and why;  thankfully, he never brought it up. She had not asked him to but knew he understood the repercussions of her actions. He hadn't been just Han’s best friend, he also had a past with Ben, and against all odds had trusted her judgment. A sentiment that warmed her heart on even her darkest days.

 

 

Wearing a headlamp with a Harris wrench clutched between her teeth, Rey stood on a set of old crates trying to find an entrance to the posterior air ducts.

 

 

“Pilex driver,” she murmured, extending a blind hand down to BB-8 who  anxiously  stood holding nine different tools with his many appendages. A new little odd shaped droid named Dio also stood by with a tiny wrench. It was absolutely adorable Rey decided especially as it followed poor BB around the Falcon like a lost convor chick. He had come with the new still unknown crew of the Alderaan Cruiser. 

 

 

Rey popped open an access hatch and pulled herself up into what she thought was the filtration compartment— it wasn't.

 

 

“Another smuggling compartment BB. We’ll have to find another way in.”

 

 

But as she lowered the hatch lid, her headlamp illuminated a small bit of out of place white paint, no—parchment lying  haphazardly  on the ground, but it didn’t appear to be trash, it was  neatly  folded over. 

 

 

“What in the Force,” she mumbled to herself.

 

 

BB-8 gave her a couple of concerned beeps. 

 

 

She chewed her bottom lip.  It was  probably  nothing;  maybe  an old piece of wrapping left over from the factory during construction. But… once a scavenger, always a scavenger.

 

 

“ Just  a sec, BB.” 

 

 

Rey pushed the creaky hatch all the way open and pulled herself up into the cramped compartment. There was no room to stand, so she had to crawl around on all fours. 

_How_ _in_ _the_ _Force_ _did_ _anyone_ _get_ _back_ _here_?

 

 

It smelled dreadful, old and stagnant. And  perhaps  it was instinctual, or an old habit, but she got a little excited.

 

 

She scooted closer, pressing her whole body against the tiny space and swearing under her breath that this was the smallest compartment she might have ever been inside.  Her fingers stretched and reached until the tips of her fingers brushed against the parchment. She huffed, blowing the hair out of her face—and, “Gotcha!” She pulled it to her chest and immediately smiled like a lothcat.  Quickly, she worked her way back to the opening.  Before her feet were even touching the crates she was unfolding what appeared to be a note and what she read made her heart almost stop.

 

 

For a long moment, Rey stood on the crates and peered down at the paper in disbelief. 

 

 

Distantly  she thought she heard BB-8 chirp in concern, but she hardly registered what he said. 

 

 

Rey climbed down, stuffed it into her satchel and bid the confused droids a hasty goodbye.

Her mind went a parsec a minute. Fixing the Falcon was easy, making friends with the pilots and crew—easy, but not thinking about Ben—hard. She pulled an old worn rag from her pocket to wipe the grease and cold sweat from her forehead as she picked up her pace— 

 

 

“Oh!” Rey said as she collided with a wall of tall gray fabric.  

 

 

Blazing blue eyes peered down into from under two gray, bushy eyebrows.

 

 

“Excuse me!” she said taking a step back,  reflexively  clutching her satchel.

 

 

“It is I who should say excuse me,” he said as he bent down and picked up Rey’s grease-stained rag from the floor. 

 

 

She couldn't help but stare into his blue eyes when he looked back at her.  The same familiarity she couldn't place earlier returned but there was also something else— 

 

 

A side door opened with a loud rusty groan. 

 

 

“Hey, there you are!” Poe said flashing that poster boy smile at the two of them. “Leia was asking for ya.”

 

 

_Kriff._

 

 

“I was  just  on my way to see her now,” she lied. 

 

 

Poe’s attention finally shifted to the older gentleman. “Oh! Have you two met already?” 

 

 

“No, we were actually  just  introducing ourselves—“

 

 

Poe slapped Rey on the back, “You're in for a treat, this is our resident Je—

 

 

“Rey!”  She  quickly  interjected, realizing too late that her pitch may have conveyed more suspicion than she would have liked.  Regaining her composure, she tried again, “My name is Rey, and I’m a mechanic, I specialize in, er, Astro droid repair and, uh, hyperdrive lines.”

 

 

Force, she was bad at this.

 

 

Rey side-eyed Poe, watching him raise an eyebrow, but he said nothing.

 

 

Play along, she thought,  outwardly  hoping that somehow through the Force Poe would catch on. 

 

 

“Well, Rey, mechanic extraordinaire, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m General Domadi.”

 

 

“Uh, the pleasure’s all mine, Sir,” Rey replied awkwardly, not knowing how to exit the conversation politely.  Thankfully, Poe bailed her out.

 

 

“Speaking of, did you adjust that fuel booster line we were talking about?”

 

 

“Uh, yeah— fixed it yesterday, hope you don’t mind I had to rewire your control panel, but I added a little something extra to make up for it.”

 

 

“Ah, it's okay. I’ll get used to it— might keep me on my toes.” 

 

 

Rey nodded to them both and turned back down the hallway towards the one place she had hoped to avoid— Leia’s office. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

As Rey rounded the corner, Connix— a perky Lieutenant who’s attitude and work ethic reminded her a lot of Leia’s— exited the office door.

 

 

It had become clear to Rey that Connix and Poe were a _thing,_ although neither of them  outwardly  expressed any feelings towards each other whatsoever. Yet, she often sensed their thoughts involving one another in the same way Finn and Rose’s did.

 

 

Connix was brilliant.  She had worked in tandem with General Organa days after Crait, creating a coded propaganda campaign using Luke's showdown against the First Order as their material.

 

 

But, for all their creative efforts, it wasn't as elegant as their opponents.  Within five standard days, Rey’s image— or, what she supposed was her— flashed over the HoloNet News across the galaxy. 

 

 

Poe  offhandedly  joked about the bounty on her head.

  _“I could buy a small planet somewhere in the Outer Rim and retire.”_

 It was all good fun, of course. They had to make light of the situation where they could. They didn't know that she had, in fact, been sold for far less as a child.  But the worth they had placed on her wasn’t what bothered her, it was the elegant handwritten signature at the bottom of the decree— _Ben Solo_ _._

Leia had called her into her private quarters and handed her a cup of Blue honeycup tea.  She suspected the General would talk about the bounty on her head and their strategy going forward, but instead, she said, “It’s not the first time,” before taking a sip of the warm dark blue liquid.

 Leia then proceeded to tell her the story of the Darth Vader reveal before the Republic fell and the problems it had caused afterward. 

 “He’s a smart boy. I shouldn't have underestimated him.”

“Smart? He outed himself to the entire Galaxy, how can he ever lead a normal life when this is all over?” Rey blurted out before she could stop herself. And at the same time, she wondered why she had said it at all. Did she  honestly  believe Ben would live a normal life someday? It sounded mad, especially when she said it out loud, laughable even, but Leia wasn't laughing.

 She looked at her as if she had grown another head and Rey was sure that this was the moment she’d have to come clean and confess but instead of questions, Leia’s shock  slowly  faded and the corners of her mouth turned up ever so  slightly  into the beginnings of a smirk. It was then Rey could see Ben in her features and her own heart began to falter.  Tears threatened to spill, but she fought hard against the urge to let them fall, and that’s when Leia took Rey’s hands into hers, as she often did when Rey felt despair. 

 “It’s a power move, Rey. One that will throw a mynock into our plans. Ben knows that people will trust me less if they know he is Kylo Ren and my son.”

 Rey lowered her head, “What are we to do?” 

 Leia smiled, and tucked a fallen strand of hair behind Rey’s ear before she  gently  tilted Rey's face back up to look at her, “We work harder, and smarter.” 

Rey replayed the old conversation over in her head as her hand hovered over Leia’s door.

Without warning the sirens began to blare over the intercom system.  For a single solitary moment, she froze in the hallway until the very foundation she was standing on shook  violently, almost knocking her to the floor. 

 Leia’s door flew open but before Rey could step aside or say anything at all the General grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back towards the hangar.

 Rey was certain that Leia could have taken on the First Order on her own.  The Princess turned General, a whole foot shorter than her, dragged her down the corridors while yelling out orders to every single passerby.  No one would have guessed that Leia had relied  heavily  on a respirator in private, and it surprised Rey she had chosen to leave it behind in her quarters.

 Leia stopped at the juncture between the hangar and the control room and rounded on Rey, bringing herself up to her full height as if she were not sick at all.

Force, she was strong.

“You and I will talk later, but for now, I need you to be that strong leader I know is in there, do you understand me?” she said.

Rey could only nod as she watched her enemy’s mother walk into the control room.

 Finn appeared seconds later, with a datapad and a serious expression Rey had only  just  started to get used to. What he and Rose went through while she was on Ahch-To had changed her friend in ways she hadn’t expected. He was far more committed to the Resistance and had even earned the rank of Captain.  Proud was an understatement when it came to her feelings; she had sensed early on that Finn was far more courageous than he gave himself credit for.

 What only took minutes felt like an eternity to Rey as she and Finn worked in tandem, ushering everyone into their transports. Of course, everyone knew the drill, they knew which transport to report to, what to bring and what to leave behind. It was unfortunately rehearsed.

 Of course, she would take the Falcon, Poe would leave with Leia and Rose would go with Finn.

 Engines began to fire, astromech droids loaded themselves into their co-pilot cradles and the flight crew loaded the last batch of surviving munitions onto a small, half-functioning transport.

Rey called out to Chewie to prime the Falcon’s engines as Finn gave the signal to Pava and Wexley to fire up their X-wings.

And as  quickly  as it had begun— the bombing stopped.

 Rey and Finn both skidded to a stop along with everyone else. A deafening, unsettling silence filled the hangar.

 Rey held her breath when Leia emerged from the command center, her datapad in hand looking as if she were going to be sick .

 “You two,” she pointed to Finn and then to Rey, “Control center. Now.”

 

* * *

 “We’re surrounded,” Leia said, tapping the controls of the mapping table in front of her, revealing the horrible truth.

“Are those dreadnaughts?” Poe asked, trying to mask his disbelief, but Rey knew— or, rather, could _feel_ his fear.

 “Six of them,” Leia answered.

 “With all due respect, General Organa, why are we still alive? They could have wiped us out twenty minutes ago.” Rose asked.

 

 

“Because they want the Jedi girl,” General Domadi said, stepping forward and placing himself between Leia and Poe .

 

 

Without a word, every eye in the room turned towards Rey.

 

 

So he did know who she was.  Rey tried to reach through the Force to get a feel for this new presence but found something very different and very odd. Nothing— she felt  absolutely  nothing at all from him.

 

 

“Well, they can’t have her,” Finn said, taking up the space between this new General and Rey, “We’ll hold them off until we’re clear, like the last two times.”

 

 

“I admire your courage, Finn,” Leia said, catching his eyes, “But this isn't like the last two times.  General Domadi is an old acquaintance of my family, he specializes in military strategy.”

 

 

“They’ve been flushing you out, which is the only reason you managed to escape the last two times. They’re looking for something, or rather, someone, and now they have verification she’s here.” Domadi tapped a button on the controls and at the center of the table, and a new image appeared.

 

 

A skinny man dressed in a First Order uniform with a gaunt-looking face appeared.

 

 

“Oh, great. It’s General Hugs,” Poe remarked  sarcastically  before Leia side-eyed him into silence.

 

 

_This is the Grand Marshal Hux of the First Order. We have you surrounded with the most  technologically  advanced fleet ever created,  fully  funded by planetary systems from every corner of the Galaxy. _ _The Resistance it seems are nothing but pests which the majority of systems wish to see_ — eradicated.

 

 

Poe rolled his eyes, “General, Marshal--Does this guy ever shut up?” Poe mumbled.

 

 

_I, however, have a proposition for you, General Organa. Give us the Jedi girl that goes by the name Rey and I will let you and your lot leave unharmed.  Do not and we will fire on your base, obliterating you and your cause; erasing your presence from galactic history. You have five minutes._

 

 

The transmission ended and the image disappeared.

 

 

The room went absolutely still as everyone looked at General Organa and then to Rey, who suddenly felt very small and very guilty. They were doing this because they wanted her. He wanted her. Could she end it all by surrendering herself to him? It made sense, but it had also made sense last time and look where that landed her. He wanted her alive— that meant something, didn’t it? The image of Ben begging her to stay replayed in her mind but she batted the idea away and found Leia’s watching her. She didn’t say it, but then again, Leia never had to. Rey knew Leia had caught wind of her thoughts. 

 

 

“Well,  obviously  we aren’t giving them Rey, so if any of you have any ideas now is the time to share.”

Uneasy glances  were passed  around until, finally—

 “General, I got a plan,” Poe said.

 Perhaps  it was her imagination, or  maybe  it was the Force, but Rey could have sworn she heard someone say, _I got a bad feeling about this_.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Rey sat in the cockpit of the T-65 X-wing flipping switches and priming the engines, readying herself for the unenviable dogfight ahead.

 

 

Chewie made last-minute repairs to the Falcon’s hyperdrive lines and Poe took an unfamiliar seat, taking hold of the yoke as Finn calculated their jump.

 

 

Rose took the controls of an old Quadjumper and took a deep breath. Jessika had given her lessons almost daily and now they were about to  be put  to the test. Her fingertips found the curved Haysian smelt charm over her heart. She felt a gentle, reassuring squeeze on her shoulder.

 

 

“The Force is with us, Rose. Remember that,” Leia said.

 

 

“Yes, General,” Rose replied. Then she hit the ignition.

 

 

“All teams— as soon as we see light we take evasive maneuvers, got it?” Poe directed over the comms.

 

 

“Got it,” Rose answered.

 

 

“Copy that,” Rey called.

 

 

“ Just  a morning stroll, Commander,” Pava said.

 

 

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Wexley chimed in.

 

 

“Connix? You good?” Poe asked.

 

 

“Yeah, it's a go for me,” Kaydel answered before sighing to herself and mumbling, “Force, I hope so.”

 

 

“Your comms are still on Connix,” Poe chuckled.

 

 

“Oh, right,” she replied and  promptly  shut her side off.

 

 

“You got this,  just  remember what I taught you,” Poe said as he pulled his ship in front of the hangar exit.

 

 

“May the Force be--”

 

 

A whistling sound cut through Poe’s words followed by a cataclysmic blast. It rocked the Falcon pushing it back into Rose’s Quadjumper.  

 

 

Smoke billowed through a large flaming red hole at the center of the hanger doors, their only exit.

 

 

Through the smoke, Poe could see movement. Flames reflected off what to appeared to be black and red _smasher armor_? Worn by a man with a horrible grey goatee, armed with an array of weapons attached at the belt. He menacingly stalked through the still flaming opening flanked by a horde of Stormtroopers.

 

 

“What… _Is_ that?” Finn asked peering over Chewie’s shoulder.

 

 

The man pointed a what Poe recognized to be a pulse rifle  directly  at the cockpit.

 

 

“Well, whoever he is, he isn’t friendly,” Poe pulled up the yoke and then fired two concussion missiles at the doors blasting them all the way open for the others.

 

 

When Poe flew over the man's head the two locked eyes and a chill ran down his spine, but there was no time to give it any further thought.

 

 

As soon as they were airborne, bright green plasma lit up their viewports, proximity alarms sounding over the frantic radio chatter.

 

 

**_ They're all over me— I got two on my six— black four, look up combat spread— blue seven, pull up —dead stick-dead stick — we’re overrun; break, break, break!—_**

 

 

Poe pulled the ship into a flat scissor, flying up and over the lead elite TIE pilot taunting him to follow and pulling him into a false chase.

 

 

Rey rolled her ship but immediately dropped into a dive when four TIE’s zeroed in on her.

 

 

Poe broke right, taking the heat off of Rose and allowed her to push through the atmosphere, launching herself into hyperspace.

 

 

“Rose made it through!  Initiate  code nine, that’s a go for code nine!” Poe yelled through the comms.

 

 

Rey and Poe took up defensive maneuvers as the crew transports launched heading in three different directions.

 

 

Five TIE’s peeled off and headed towards Connix. Rey watched Poe almost ram into one before finally shooting it down. Rey caught his six, taking out two before they landed a hit on him.

 

 

Amid the chaos of trying to keep her friends alive, she left her own back exposed. Just as her awareness of that fact found its way through the adrenaline into rational thought, she felt it. Rey's ship lurched forward, followed by the horrifying sound of a sputtering right engine.

 

 

Rey watched Connix follow her designated group, finding a hole through the First Order defense and launching into hyperspace, followed by Poe.

 

 

She was alone.

 

 

Her stomach dropped when she heard the other engine finally give up and seize.  The cockpit filled with thick black smoke almost  instantly, then the nose tilted down with a loud groan and began dropping into an immediate dive.

 

 

Every alarm began to wail all around her. There was a moment of dizzying confusion as the ship spun out of her control.

 

 

Rey  frantically  fumbled through the smoke for her emergency oxygen mask as BB-8  desperately  tried to put out the flames and reroute power to the interior filters.

 

 

Finally covering her face with the mask, Rey sucked down a gulp of air.  Blindly, she gripped the yoke and pulled up,  desperately  trying not to crash nose-first; a last-ditch effort to give herself a fighting chance.

 

 

And then, BB-8 chirped something in binary Rey was certain she misheard.

 

 

“What?! You can’t be serious!”  Her response  was muffled  through the mask but she knew BB heard her when he beeped  frantically  the same sequence again.

 

 

“But the engines?” She gasped, “The hull can’t handle that amount of pressure. I don’t even know if we are level!”

 

 

BB screeched a final warning, _Now or never!_

 

 

Rey pulled the yoke again hoping it would catch— it did.  Then with her eyes  tightly  closed, she reached out, searching the console for the button that would release the hyperdrive lever, finding nothing but air. Stunned and a little perturbed she searched for the button again. Her heart pounded in her ears and thudded behind her eyes; she knew the cockpit was losing pressure.  Then her fingertips ghosted across the console and found the button she had installed  just  days ago. She pressed it and prayed to the Force that the fuse would hold.  At her side, the compartment holding the hyperdrive lever finally opened  just  as the smoke began to filter out, clearing her vision and she slammed it forward, launching her headlong into the blue blur of hyperspace with a broken ship, limited oxygen and a destination _unknown_ _._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had to go back into Chapter 2 and change a title given to a certain someone; I missed it during the edits so apologies if it is a bit confusing. It was always meant to be the way it is in this chapter.

The loss of Snoke's flagship had not particularly bothered Ben. Sure, it had exuded power but it wasn’t his ship, it had been Snoke’s and therefore, good riddance. Ben was building something new, in his own image.

Hux though, well, Hux was _devastated_. Not just for the loss of the overly ostentatious flagship but for the deceased Supreme Leader as well. He would never forget the look on Hux’s face when he told him to incinerate the body and dump it out of the airlock. Somehow the fair-skinned pinhead paled whiter than the snows on Hoth. Horrified, he attempted to argue for a proper send-off for the old wrinkled dark sider; with such affection, one would think he had actually been Hux’s father, and that had made Ben’s skin crawl.

Repulsed by the memory, Kylo sneered to himself as he gazed out of the viewport of the Finalizer as it hovered over the Mustafar System. The chatter at his back remained hushed and tense. He honestly had no business on the bridge at all but he had to get out of that room. Just like he needed to get off this ship, and back down to the surface of the red planet.

Six months prior when he established the Mustafar as his permanent residence, Hux had a lot to say about it.

 

        *******

 

“Supreme Leader, I must once again protest. It will be extremely difficult if not impossible to protect. We won’t be able to jump into hyperspace if the rebels pose a credible threat.”

Ben held up his hand and immediate silence followed. It was amazing; such a small gesture had the ability to procure obedience from his second in command. He didn't even have to use the Force any longer.

Hux sighed, rubbing his temple with a gloved hand, and sat down in the chair beside him.

“How much longer, Captain Peavey?” Hux asked.

“We are coming out of lightspeed now, Sir.”

The obsidian castle stood out amongst the angry molten red landscape; towering over the three men as they disembarked the shuttle.

“You could have at least picked somewhere a little _cooler_ ,” Hux groaned and shook out a white handkerchief from inside his finely pressed uniform to wipe the quickly accumulating perspiration from his brow. “And less pungent.”

Ben had warned him prior to leaving the Finalizer but the too proud newly appointed Grand Marshal wanted to keep his status visible. ‘ _For continuity and the sake of order,’_ he had claimed.

                       *******

 

He never wanted to grant him _that_ promotion, but he needed Hux to remain in the fold — even if what Snoke said was true and Ben knew that it was; Hux _was_ a rabid cur. He couldn’t Force choke him forever and so he reluctantly gave him the title Snoke would not. However, he was not naive — Hux was and would always be an unpredictable, cunning foe. But he hoped the privilege would sate the Marshal until he had a better handle on the First Order.

The embarrassing defeat on Crait, he knew, had not earned him any loyalty. Ruling with fear was the mistake of the Empire; it led to the Rebellion and subsequently the Emperor's downfall. Arrogance had indeed led Snoke to his death just as Rey boasted it would. He knew enough about the past to avoid repeating the same mistakes. Or at least he told himself as much.

 _At least Hux had his usefulness,_ he mused.

Not only did he have a strong sense of military strategy, but the propaganda campaign he created was also nothing short of genius. Five days after the Battle of Crait, images of dead stormtroopers, destroyed ships, and weeping workers of all stations flooded the HoloNet news. The Resistance was rightfully blamed for the deaths of over two million First Order workers who had families in over twenty systems. Children of the fallen were showcased in a one hour broadcast. Amilyn Holdo’s suicide run into the Supremacy and seven other Star Destroyers was declared an act of terrorism.

Hux ingeniously justified the destruction of the Hosnian System, accusing them of aiding and weaponizing rebel terrorist cells who could strike other systems without the First Order’s protection. It raised more than a few eyebrows in the conference room from high command when they all watched it together. Ben made a point to gauge the mood around the room; they all knew it was bantha poodoo but there was something about the way Hux phrased it that made it seem _plausible_. Even those with the deepest knowledge regarding the matter were swayed. Within hours of the first broadcasts, money from all corners of the galaxy began to pour in along with support; everything from supplies to factories was offered up to aid the Order.

Yes, Hux had his usefulness but it also made him more dangerous than ever before. He had always been the face of the military but now it had become far more than that. Now he was making long lasting relationships with outlying systems, ones with an abundance of credits and connections. Ben loathed politics, but if he learned anything from his mother at all, it was that perception was everything. No one knew who their new Supreme Leader was, and with the now Grand Marshal Hux becoming the face of the First Order, Ben knew he had to act and fast.

He immediately requested all major diplomatic matters be written on parchment. Hux had gone on a tirade about how time-consuming and unnecessary the ancient practice was, and Ben relished the thought of Hux being buried alive under stacks of literal paperwork.

Writing his name felt unusually natural, but signing Rey’s death warrant tore him apart. He remembered how the tip of the pen dragged slowly across the paper on the thick durasteel desk, and the ink glistened under the harsh artificial lights.

Rey had been painted as a ruthless mercenary, hailing from the uncivilized planet of Jakku, who savagely cut down a defenseless elderly leader. A bounty was placed on her head; the reward so substantial it could fund the construction of several Star Destroyers, but there was a catch; she was to be taken alive. Hux had expressed a profound desire for a very public execution.

The thought made his stomach churn.

Sadly, he couldn't dispute such a request nor could he refuse to sign the warrant for her arrest without stirring suspicion. Part of him wanted her caught so he could face her, but he feared the confrontation in ways he refused to acknowledge. That had been the first official document as the new Supreme Leader he had signed his name to. His real name— _Ben Solo._

If the rest of the galaxy didn't know Kylo Ren was the son of Leia Organa and Han Solo, they did now. Which meant they also knew he was the grandson of Darth Vader.

The lineage granted him authority in corners of the galaxy that still feared the Sith Lord and he would use it to his advantage. However, he was determined to do better, make something new, and obtain peace. Or, his father… the sacrifice meant nothing.

No, he couldn't think like that. Han’s death had a purpose; to get him here, to do what needed to be done. He was the Skywalker heir. This was what he was meant to be. Wasn't it?

_You tell me? You’re the one who thinks he has all the answers._

Out of the corner of Ben’s eye, a blue hue materialized; one he knew only he could see, but he did not turn to acknowledge it. Rolling his eyes, he kept his face forward.

He had refused to acknowledge Luke that morning when he had rudely invaded his quarters speaking cryptically about strong hearts and mending broken ones. He hadn’t expected the old man to be so sentimental about his love life— that is, if had one. Which he most certainly did not. Rey hated him. Besides, that’s not how love works. They had a small moment of comfort and then a brief alliance— that was hardly love.

_You seem to know an awful lot about love for someone who’s never been in love._

The leather of Ben’s gloves squeaked as he clenched his fists at his side. The mood in the room shifted as he felt the uneasiness swell from the bridge staff behind him.

Luke walked closer but Ben refused to move even an inch.

_You’re as stubborn as your mother and as hard-headed as your father._

Ben’s jaw flexed as he clenched as hard as he could to keep from turning and screaming at the old Jedi and besides, he would have looked like a madman because no one else could see Luke except for him.

_You can ignore me all you want Ben, but sooner or later you’re going to have to face the truth._

Something began to sting behind Ben’s eyes and he dared not to think of the reasons why. Instead, he swallowed the knot forming in his throat-- as he did a single arm-length crack formed across the viewport as Ben turned his head to face his uncle.

Before he could speak, Luke vanished and Ben’s furious eyes narrowed on a raven-haired Lieutenant who seemed to be sweating profusely.

“Supreme Leader, shall I call the maintenance droids to make repairs?” Mitaka asked as he removed his hat and wrung it in his hands.

Ben took a small breath, schooling his expression from anger to impassive before he addressed him.

“Send them up,” he replied nonchalantly, but Mitaka didn't move.

“Anything else?”

“Yes—yes sir— Supreme Leader—Uh, the Grand Marshal is in route and will arrive in three standard days.”

“And?”

“He wanted to relay that, he would like to meet you on Mustafar… they’ve made contact—“

Ben took a menacing step forward, towering over the Lieutenant and poor Mitaka was forced to crane his neck to maintain eye contact.

“They’ve found the girl— sir, on Lothal--"

Ben bared his teeth like a rabid animal ready to devour a meal, " _And_ ," he asked, as everything not bolted down began to levitate, and what could not trembled with desperate effort to rise, filling the bridge with the ominous sound of rattling metal. 

"Tha--that's all the official communique said sir, but if I may add, the pilot chatter suggests they may have landed a hit or two before she escaped into hyperspace. We have no confirmation but it could have been lethal."

Ben could hear his pulse pounding in his ears. _That’s impossible…_ He would have felt it, right? The bond had been silent for so long he wasn't so sure any longer.  He turned back to the viewport, looking past his own reflection and out to the vastness of space. Rey was out there somewhere hurt or worse and Hux had acted without clearing it with him first. If anyone could have looked into his eyes at that moment they would have sworn they saw a flame ignite within them. The sound of breaking glass silenced the already hushed bridge crew and the viewport spiderwebbed the full length of the bridge. Then as if a switch flipped everything floating dropped back to the ground.

He turned abruptly, his cape ghosting the ground behind him as he strode through the command center and into the turbo lift, slamming his fist onto the controls.

As Ben stormed through the hangar stormtroopers and officers all moved aside. Resisting the urge to board the Silencer, and meet the Marshal himself wherever he may be, Ben walked up the ramp of the Upsilon Class shuttle. He had learned the hard way of what, acting on impulse when his emotions ran rampant, got him; a mistake he wouldn't make again, especially when it came to _her_.  

He couldn't fly across the Galaxy in search of Rey based on unconfirmed and quite frankly unreliable information. He sensed a reason behind the lack of clarity of the message. He would have to exercise patience and wait for the chips to fall into place before reacting; a practice that had saved his life and Reys when they were at Snokes mercy. Besides, Rey was strong, and he was the last person she'd want to see-- she didn't need him. 

* * *

 

Unwilling and unable to remain in the confines of the Finalizer, Ben disembarked on Mustafar and now stood in front of a large window watching a river of lava wind around the castle. He imagined that if it were water, his view would be more pleasant but he needed to be here.

The interior of his grandfather’s castle was much cooler than the outside. Temperature control gave the illusion that the windows were only fancy holograms of a harsh environment. The chamber where he slept was modest; there were no extravagant luxuries, just a simple bed and a fresher. Old holos and datapads cluttered a lone shelf in the corner. When he opened them for the first time six months ago, he was astonished at what he found-- senate meetings— hours and hours of dull legislative work. To anyone else they were useless, but to him, they were a gift. He had ignored his mother’s wishes to join her on the Senate floor when he was a child. It was boring and pointless then; he had no ambition to go into politics. He was dead set on becoming a pilot like his father. Now, he was at the forefront of the political arena and the flying skills passed down to him by Han were of no use. So he had watched the meetings, sometimes falling asleep with them in his lap, trying to learn and remember anything his mother may have said to him.

It was only at the viewing of the fourth datapad a week after he had arrived on Mustafar that something actually piqued his interest: Padme Amidala.

She took the floor, dressed in an ornate crimson and gold Nabooian dress. He knew his grandmother’s face from pictures his mother had kept. He could see his mother in her face and himself in her eyes. Stern, yet gentle, she commanded the meeting; something about water systems and providing for the people of Naboo after contamination. It was odd such a thing would be stored here but— _of course._

He went back and looked over the ones he had already watched— his suspicion confirmed. Every single one had a clear view of his grandmother, a handful while she was Queen and the remaining majority while she was a Senator. Vader had not kept them to brush up on politics, but to watch his late wife.

Ben looked out at the hellish landscape. Luke had told him the story. This is where Anakin attacked Padme, and where Obi-Wan cut him down.

 _Why?_ Why would he come back to this place and surround himself with memories of pain?

The Sith answer was to fuel his hatred, but the holos suggested otherwise.

He didn’t have any holos of Rey. Any in existence were destroyed with the Supremacy.

The image created by a sketch artist for the distribution of holo-posters did not do her justice. They had her hair all wrong, her eyes were too menacing, and they forgot her freckles. He did nothing to correct them even though it was his duty. She’d helped him — despite how it had ended, at the very least he could turn a blind eye.

Three days from now Hux would return with new intelligence on Rey’s— the _Resistance's_ whereabouts and their status.

  
_“So what are you going to do about it?”_ Luke asked, appearing beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading. In case you missed it I had to go back and change General Hux to Marshal Hux in chapter 2. Hopefully, that'll be the only mistake I make like that. I hope you guys enjoyed it. The next two chapters are fascinating! I had a ton of fun writing them, and I will try to update for Christmas!  
> A shout out to my beta @RebelRebel and @ReyloRobyn2011 for being so awesome and encouraging! Love you guys


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait! Hope you like it. A special thanks to @rebelrebel for being my beta! Couldn't do this without you!

“Is it the rear deflector shields?” Poe yelled over the comms.

“No, still up and working!” Finn called back.

“Well, we’re taking critical damage, whatever this is, it’s not coming from outside!” Poe said, just as a ship exploded on the port side of the Falcon.

“Nice shot!” He called to Finn who had been in the turret seat in a heated exchange with some very unhappy pilot.

An alarm continued to beep at an unusually high-pitched, ear-piercing frequency but Poe couldn't discern its location, nor could he fix the current glitch in the nav computer. Since he had sat down in the pilot's chair on Lothal the alarm would not shut off, and he had checked all systems at least ten times before he had given up and listened to it for two painful parsecs. He thought for sure his eye was beginning to twitch.

“What the hell is that?” he yelled, pounding his fists against the console.

R2 rolled up from behind beeping something along the lines of— _She’s not going to like that and—testy?_

But Poe didn’t have time to decipher the meaning from the old droid because the Falcon was overheating.

He tried the secondary tank— nothing, then he switched it over into auxiliary mode— nada.

“You want me to help?” Finn asked, leaning in between the seats of the cockpit.

“Don’t worry about it; I got it, I got it,” Poe grumbled, straining to regain control over his nerves and voice. It took a lot to rattle him when he flew— the sky and space were his second home, but as the engine of the Falcon let out a particular metallic whine that all pilots dread—his heart stopped.

The Wookiee could be heard below in the engine room shouting obscenities followed by an odd high-pitched shrieking. Whatever the problem was it appeared that not even Chewie could solve it because now they had stalled. Poe felt his stomach drop, but not because of the engine... because they had begun to plummet towards the surface. He pulled the yolk, but it was a dead stick. For a fleeting second Poe looked over his shoulder to see Finn holding on to the back of the co-pilot's seat, his knuckles beginning to blanch and his eyes wide as he stared right back at him almost pleadingly.

“Rey’s going to kill you if you wreck her ship!” Finn yelped.

“I’m more worried about the Wookiee in the back!” Poe quipped half-heartedly. If they managed to make it through this, he knew the Falcon would be a total wreck. Rey would never let him live it down.

“Just hold on. I’m gonna try something,” Poe said as he pulled a few more levers and flipped a couple more switches. The power flickered and then finally, after what seemed like forever, the engine buzzed.

“Poe!” Finn cried, “Pull up!”

He could see the trees— _oh boy,_ this was going to hurt.

The engine churned again and again— the Falcon cantered to the side and just as the horizon seemed to disappear, all the units across the control panel lit up. Poe yanked the yolk as hard as he could just as Chewie flung himself into the co-pilot's chair and pulled down a lever over his head. The reverse thrusters activated, slowing them, but not enough to avoid the inevitable.

A loud groan filled the cockpit as the trees dug into the Corellian freighters durasteel belly. R2 squealed as he flew across the floor, desperately trying to grasp onto anything with his appendages.

“Hold on, this is gonna hurt!” Poe called out.

****

 

**_Beep... Beep… Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep..._ **

****

Poe could hear it: a constant rhythmic pulse, almost like a heart rate monitor. Was he in the medbay? Was it his heart? _No—_ that wasn't right, he could feel his beating; it didn't match the rhythm of the noise. He blinked, but everything around him was dark. The pain in his left arm spiked and reminded him of everything and how it had gone oh so wrong.

They had split up on Lothal, all of them. Each team had a different objective. Rey was to go into hiding. Rose and Leia were meant to meet up with the transports at a disclosed location only known to the General. Connix was heading to Coruscant to keep her ear to the ground.

Wexley and Pava went back to Ryloth to keep an eye on the First Order operations and he, Finn and Chewie had set off to Tatooine to seek out help from a crime boss from the Parapa Cartel.

Finn had warned him before they set foot into Mos Eisley, “I got a bad feeling about this.”

And he had been right— the talks lasted only minutes before they were double-crossed by their Weequay contact. Apparently, the man that had attacked the hangar on Lothal had followed them and had already contacted Morzeen Parapa. Within seconds they had every blaster in the Cantina pointed in their direction.

Thankfully they had a backup plan, a thermal detonator. Leia had been right, it worked like a charm— well, until they made it out the door. Then they had to run for it.

The bounty hunter had chased them relentlessly, forcing them to pass up several systems until they didn't have enough fuel to make a jump. It was Chewie who had suggested the drop through the atmosphere of the nearest planet to try to lose them there. But as soon as they broke through, they were met with a hail of gunfire. They had unfortunately dropped into a First Order-controlled planet.

“Awwww man,” Finn groaned, pulling Poe out of his reverie.

He felt an arm— _or was it a leg_?— move from atop his back.

Chewie growled and sat up beside him. They were alive! But where were they? Poe sat up and tried to access the nav computer, but it was all dead. He had no way of knowing where they had ended up or how far away it was from First Order troops; it was likely they and the bounty hunter were well on their way to the crash site.

“Damn it, what happened!”

Chewie groaned and shook his head.

“What he say?” Finn asked, rubbing his head.

“Apparently the Porgs tore all the wires out of the hyperdrive, and shorted out the main engine... everything's dead.”

“If everything's dead then what's that mean?” Finn pointed to the console.

A single solitary red light continued to flash in rhythm with that damn beeping. Poe was elated and relieved all at once. The annoying alarm had a purpose after all.

“You’re right, Finn. As long as there's a little power, there's still hope!”

Chewie reached over and adjusted the back of Poe’s seat, and the alarm stopped, the red light dying. The cockpit went utterly silent.

“A pre-programmed seat position… really?” Poe deadpanned.

Outside, the air was muggy, reminding him of Yavin-4— which would have been a welcome comfort if the heavy smell of engine oil hadn’t also filled the air. Poe could hardly look at the Falcon in its pitiful state, smoking and covered with broken branches. Rey was most definitely going to kill him. Hell, maybe Leia, too. But it wasn't his fault! How could he have known a small army of tiny, wide-eyed Porgs would bring down one of the most legendary ships in the galaxy?

He had to admit, it was ironic and a bit funny that an avian infestation had been the reason for the demise of a ship called the Falcon. He knew, though, that Rey would not be amused. She had taken a shine to the ship ever since Leia left it in her care after what happened on Starkiller. It was, for all intents and purposes, a family heirloom.

Poe let out a loud sigh and rubbed his hands down his face before turning to Finn and Chewie.

“We have to find civilization, and let the rest of the Resistance know we failed.”

Finn nodded, and Chewie grunted in agreement.

R2 chirped, rolling to Poe’s side and giving him the last readout from the Falcon. They were on a planet called Batuu, but where exactly was unfortunately unknown. What _was_ known was that the planet had inhabitants, which meant they had comms and probably some sort of spaceport. He hoped.

As they set out in what they hoped was the right direction, Chewie hesitated, looking back at the beloved ship and grunting mournfully to himself before he finally followed. A pang of guilt touched Poe’s heart. He knew it wasn't his fault, but he still felt responsible. It had been his idea to parlay with the Parapa Cartel, his fault that the deal went sour, and because of that, the Falcon took damage that, in combination with its internal parasites, caused all of this to transpire.

“When we get this sorted out, we’ll come back for her Chew, I promise. She’s under a good amount of cover; no one will find her here.”

They walked for what seemed like hours, getting covered in mud shin-high. No one really spoke except for Finn, who had to wrestle with a Liana vine that had a slinker attached to it. Chewie easily removed the creature from his shoulder before they set out again. Then, finally they saw it— a break in the trees; sunlight, and a clearing. Knee-high grass as far as the eye could see.

Poe scanned the horizon for any signs of civilization but saw only blue sky and— _nerfs_. They just made it a hundred yards before they heard it. Thunder? No, it was coming from the ground. The rumble grew louder and louder until he could feel the vibrations in his feet. They barely had time to turn around before—

“Run!” Finn yelped.

There was a blur of fur along with strange grunting and heavy panting from the four-legged creatures barreling towards them with riders on their backs.

All Poe could do was follow Finn and Chewie, who was surprisingly fast for his size.

But it wasn't fast enough— the creatures and their riders were hot on their heels. Poe thought for sure they were all about to be trampled, and they might have been, but the two leading the charge peeled off in opposite directions, and as if synchronized, the others behind followed, circling the three rebels and trapping them.

All the three of them could do now was stare at the dozen or so jagged spears pointed mere inches away from their faces.

* * *

 

**Meanwhile, Aboard the Starhammer**

 

"Sir, Ashandrik has arrived," Officer Peavy announced.

"Good."

It was hard for Hux to contain the smirk that played at the corners of his mouth as he walked down the corridor.

The durasteel walls of the newly built Star Destroyer glistened in the artificial light as it chartered the Marshal through the Tatoo System after a planned stop just over Tatooine. Hux would have turned his nose up at the cartel controlled planet any other time, but today he was to receive his prize, a new toy he could dangle in front of the Supreme Leaders nose just to see if he’d flinch. Oh, he knew Ren would there was no doubt about that. The Marshal relished in the pleasure it gave him to think about the horrified look on Ren’s face as he killed his accomplice-- or was she his companion? Something about the way the two had looked at one another in the lift's surveillance holo told Hux, it was the latter.

Of course, he wouldn't kill her right away, where was the fun in that? No, this one would suffer, he would make sure of it. In fact, he may just have to do it himself.

*******

“What do you mean you lost them?” Hux barked.

Ashandrik shrugged, “Sometimes they get away.”

Hux could feel his right eye beginning to twitch but worked his expression down from scathing to annoyed. He had heard Tern Ashandrik was the best of the best; the only known bounty hunter in the Galaxy with a track record as reputable as Boba Fett’s, but the man who stood before him was considerably aged and had atrocious manners. He’d been cleaning his teeth with a toothpick for at least the last five minutes.

“I have contacted the Supreme Leader and told him I had her because you told me _you_ had her.”

“She wasn’t on the Falcon like you said she would be., Bad intel, Marshal,” he shrugged, “I’m sure Supreme Leader Ren— or is it Solo?” he paused and looked down at his toothpick, flicking off a piece of food, “Will understand.”

_That’s it._

Hux brought himself up to his full height and got within inches of the man's face. He paid no mind to Tern’s muscular build or that he could probably strangle him within an inch of his life with one hand. No, a fate far worse than that awaited him if he didn't make good on his promise to the Supreme Leader.

“If Supreme Leader is displeased with me, Ashandrik, then he will be displeased with you as well.”

For the first time, the bounty hunter’s demeanor faltered ever so slightly— but not so little that Hux didn’t pick up on it.

“Need I remind you that the Supreme Leader has the loyal Knights of Ren at his side who he can dispatch on a whim.”

“No, Marshal.”

“Good. Now tell me something useful.”

“I threw out a handful of trackers as they passed over. I’ll follow the other leads.”

Hux eyed the bounty hunter before he turned away and walked through the doorway, calling back over his shoulder, “You have _three_ days.”

When he made it out of earshot Hux pulled a comlink from his inner jacket pocket, "Tell me you have something," he spoke quietly into the device. There was no response, just dead static. Hux, tired of waiting made another call, "We only have three days." The other end of the comm remained silent, and Hux switched it off and replaced it back into it's hiding place. Never put your eggs in one basket, his father had said to him once, the only good advice he ever gave him. Hux smiled at the memory. _Oh, father, that's exactly how I got you, and how I'm going to get him._

* * *

 

The world was void of light; the space she occupied bereft of noise, as if every sound had been stolen away by the darkness. Rey stood, arms outstretched, searching for anything that could tell her where she was, but the only thing she could recognize was the faint smell of oil and hydraulic fluid.

She stumbled forward until she bumped into something cold and hard— _a wall?_ Her fingers blindly roamed against the unknown structure until a pinprick of light descended from above, illuminating a shiny reflective surface.

_Where am I?_

_You're my guest._

The conversation was just above a whisper, but Rey could hear it coming from— _the mirror?_

_No, it couldn’t be—_

Rey looked closer at her own reflection, reaching out just as she had done on Ahch-To all those months ago. And just like before, the fog lifted, but this time it unveiled something different— a window, but, this was no ordinary window. It felt _familiar_.  

What she found on the other side didn’t seem possible— stunned, she could only watch in bewilderment as the past played out before her very eyes.

The interrogation room was as ominous as she remembered, dimly lit except for the harsh light over her body. It was an odd sort of thing, watching oneself from afar. Ben stood in front of her and removed his mask; it was as startling as the first time she had watched him do it. His eyes were soft at first, non-threatening— the complete opposite of what she had expected. He was a man but looked far too young and far too—well, she could say it now, _handsome_ — to be the  _monster_ she thought lurked beneath the mask. 

He stared at her for a long moment before slamming the helmet down in a table full of ash. The way he walked back towards her reminded her of a Vworkka stalking its prey; his eyes narrowed on hers, and she watched her past self look away.

“Tell me about the droid,” Ben asked calmly.

It had not occurred to Rey until just now how cruel Ben could have been to her. It had been stupid of her to patronize him, yet she did it anyway, why? She should have been frightened of him, but she wasn't. She noted that he sized her up with his eyes before moving closer— another something she had not noticed before.

“You know I can take whatever I want.”

Why did he have to be so damn cocky? It was a ruse, she knew, and her past self would soon find out on her own, who the tortured soul Ben Solo really was.

She continued to watch as Ben held up his hand to her temple, and without warning, Rey— the _present_ Rey— felt a searing pain in her head. It wasn't a replication of what Ben had done, his intrusion had only been a slight pressure, one she abated by pushing back. Her tears at the time had come from sheer strain as she tapped into something she didn't understand— the Force.

This, on the other hand, was blinding; sharp like someone had taken a knife to her skull. Rey recoiled from the mirror, pulling back her fingertips. The past faded into the foggy, silvery mist, and their voices turned to whispers and disappeared. Both of her hands found their way to her temples, rubbing them to alleviate the pain, but there was no use. The waves of agony kept coming.

**Rey, wake up!**

There it was again, that voice of reason, but she wasn't asleep, she was— the ground beneath her _disappeared_. Her stomach flipped as she dropped, _was she falling_? Rey opened her eyes but could only see darkness once more, yes she was falling through the black void— tumbling over and over never truly knowing which side was up.

Her body slammed into an unknown hard surface. It took the wind from her lungs— her teeth involuntarily slammed shut over her tongue, and the bitter metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. She was sure she heard several bones shatter and crack upon impact.

Rey struggled in vain to let out a silent scream; to draw air back into her lungs just as she had done countless times before when she would fall from old scavenged starships. But this was no ordinary fall. She couldn't see, she couldn't move— _I can’t move!_ Trapped. She was stuck. She sucked in a loud gasping gulp of air, but the once faint smell of oil was now overbearing, polluting the oxygen she so desperately craved.  

**Damn it, Rey, wake up!**

The voice cursed at her. _It had never done that before_ , she distantly thought but could not, at the moment, speculate as to _why_ ; her head continued to painfully throb with every heartbeat.

Without warning a ray of light pierced through the darkness, blinding her. For one precious moment, she was relieved. _Finally,_ she thought, someone had come for her. Her trembling fingers outstretched into the light, expecting to grab a hand, but she was left with something more horrifying than she could have ever imagined.

 _Sand_.

The coarse grains touched the tips of her fingers and cascaded down her arm onto her face into her eyes, and it didn't stop. It kept pouring down around her, filling up the tiny space she occupied. _The one I’m trapped in._

Rey was never the type to panic. She had been in sticky situations before and always managed to find a way—

 **Rey, if you don’t wake up you’re going to drown, please listen to me,** **_sweetheart._ **

_Sweetheart?_ She had heard that endearment before— but she couldn't think about that now. The sand continued to rain down all around her, faster and faster like an avalanche and within seconds it was burying her stomach— her shoulders— her neck. Soon the weight of it began to crush her chest, squeezing the newly found air from her lungs.

**REY!**

Suddenly an ear-splitting crack sounded so loud it vibrated her entire body, then a flash—a _face_ but she couldn't make out whose it was— _the mirror_ — the fog, it wasn't clear.

**Please!**

Seconds passed, then the noise sounded from every direction, getting closer, more vociferous, more frantic.

**Hear me, Rey, it’s BEN!**

Rey’s eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, at his name. A distraught BB-8 frantically chirped _catastrophic—_ _system failure— sinking._

She blinked the sand from her eyes. There was nothing but clear blue sky above her, but the cockpit of her beloved T-65 model X-wing was nose down in a pit of sinking sand, and from the looks of it, she had only minutes to spare.

Her fingers dug down into the soupy sand searching for the latch of her safety harness, and after a few agonizing seconds, she unhooked the belt. Her ribs ached, her head throbbed, and BB was a lot heavier than he looked, but she managed to pull herself free and drag them both to safety.

The X-Wing creaked and groaned as it folded in on itself beneath the crushing weight of the sand. Rey could only stand by and watch helplessly as the Sinking Fields claimed yet another good sh—

_Wait a minute..._

Her head snapped left and then right, but the image before her was the exact same in all directions— sand; miles and miles of hot, desolate desert. The searing pain from her wounds became background noise.

Rey staggered backward as her hand flew to her chest and fisted her tunic, pulling the thin fabric away, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

BB-8 chirped up at her with concern, swiveling his dome-shaped head sideways to look at her face. Rey’s wide eyes traveled down to the little orange and white droid who wiggled with delight when she finally noticed him.

“Did… did you—” Rey paused, unable to say the word. Her hands fell from her chest down to her knees as she tried to stop herself from toppling over. Short fast huffs blew past her purple and bloody lips in rapid succession, in an attempt to reign in her panic, but it was too late, she could feel the blood draining away from her face; her skin beginning to tingle and drip with sweat not brought on by the scorching heat.

_Is this really happening?_

“No, this can’t be—” she somehow managed to whisper.

But it was.

Rey was so preoccupied with her current situation that she could barely register BB’s string of worrisome binary, let alone the presence of another being slowly approaching from behind. It was entirely too late when she refocused on the Force, alerting her to danger, and when she turned around she was met with the end of a sizeable durasteel pipe. The hit was swift and accurate. She only felt the pain for a nanosecond and then it was lights out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep telling you guys sorry for the delay, and I mean it! Real life got in the way. But I will see this fic to the end, just stay with me. As always comments are more than welcome, it really helps me focus and power through. @rebelrebel I couldn't have finished this without you, thank you so much.

Rose pressed her nose against the viewport of the private meeting room, she, Leia and General Domadi had been ushered into over an hour ago. The moon they landed on in the Oseon Belt using Leia’s coordinates was mysteriously beautiful; covered in lush jungles and endless waterfalls. No one would ever suspect that beneath the canopy an entire underworld of black market trading and illegal gambling existed. _Finn would have loved this,_ she thought to herself as she took it all in.

General Domadi drummed his fingers on the long ivory stone table, “I hope your  _acquaintance_ will make an appearance soon,” he said, breaking Rose out of her reverie.  

Leia looked up from her datapad to answer but before she could open her mouth the door opened.

An elderly man with a long flowing violet cape trimmed in a brilliant gold stepped inside grinning ear to ear.

“Princess!”

Leia got to her feet, wearing the biggest smile Rose had ever seen on the General.

“Lando,” Leia said, holding out her arms in a welcoming embrace.

They held each other as if they hadn't seen each other in years.

“I’m sorry,” Lando said holding the General tighter, “I’m sorry I wasn't there, I didn't know.”

“It’s alright, I knew there had to be a reason.”

“Thankfully, it's a good reason. One that I hope will help the cause.”

Rose watched the two old friends closely. She would have been reluctant to accept help from such a place of wealth and lawlessness had it not been for the General’s history with the legendary Calrissian.

General Domadi rose from his place at the table and extended his hand towards Lando, “General Domadi —I’m so happy to finally meet you, General Organa speaks so highly of you.”

Lando shook his hand, “Pleasure’s all mine, I assure you, General. I’m sorry, but I can’t quite place your name… Are you from the Arkanis system?”

“Oh no, I’m one of the surviving 782, the Princess was very close with a distant relative of mine from our home planet.”

“That must have been difficult for you. I’m so sorry for your loss,” Lando said.

Rose had heard stories about the destruction of Alderaan from her grandparents. Only 782 Alderaanians had been accounted for after the fall of the Empire—the ones who happened to be off-world that fateful day. They had hidden under false names on other planets, too terrified to reveal their true identities until the Emperor and his high command had completely fallen from power. General Domadi had hidden in the Kiros sector, a self-sustaining system from what Leia had told her. Domadi had only emerged after the destruction of the Hosnian system. Unable as he put it, _to idly stand by and watch it keep happening over and over_. His system had a large store of food resources to offer the Resistance but no weaponry or ships.

But—Rose hoped—that was where Lando came in.

“Thank you,” Domadi graciously replied.

“Well, let's get to it, shall we? I’m sure you’re all eager to— _who is this_?” Lando asked, his eyes landing on Rose.

Sidestepping General Domadi, Lando made his way to the mechanic turned Resistance hero. Lando bowed and took her hand. Suddenly Rose felt the tips of her ears grow warm.

“Allow me to apologize, _my lady_. I am Lando Calrissian, the owner of this establishment. At your service, and you are?”

“Uh—” Rose stuttered, suddenly forgetting her name, “I’m Rose Tico, sir, uh, General?”

Lando smiled, “Rose… what a beautiful name, and also very fitting. A rose may appear beautiful, even fragile, but I’ve seen them bloom in the snow against all odds... _and,_ if you're not careful you’ll catch your finger on a thorn.”

Rose felt the tips of her ears grow even warmer. She did not know how to respond to this man—she didn't want a repeat of _doing talking._ Her eyes shot to Leia who was currently trying her best to hide her laughter behind her hand.

“Alright alright,” Leia intervened, “show us what you got, you old smoothy. We’re a tiny bit pressured for time.”

“Of course, Princess,” Lando replied, turning to lead them out of the room.

Leia linked arms with Rose, pulling her closer, “He’s harmless,” she mumbled low enough for only their ears. “Did the same thing to me when we first met, I thought Han was going to blow a gasket.”

Rose chuckled under her breath, “How did you keep a straight face?”

Leia patted Rose’s hand, “Years and _years_ of practice. I’ve got a pretty good Sabbac face. Han always accused me of using the Force but you learn your way around men— they give themselves away more than they know.”

Rose immediately thought of Finn and knew exactly what Leia was talking about. He always seemed to look down to the floor before coming up with a plan, or bit his lip when he was about to tell her something he knew she wouldn't like. It made her smile to think on it now.

They walked down an endless dull grey durasteel encased corridor then took a lift down so far Rose thought they would be at the center of the planet before they had stopped. Then they entered a long duracrete hallway, the temperature had drastically dropped Rose noted, _probably to hide any traces of activity from infrared sensors._ Finally, they moved through a set of white blaster doors—

Rose gasped out loud before she could help herself. The hangar was massive she couldn’t even see the end but that’s not what surprised her.  Rows upon rows of T-85 X-Wings the very same model that was lost when the New Republic was destroyed sat shiny and new before her very eyes. But that wasn't all, there were ships she had never seen before, newer models of what appeared to be an A-Wing and even a bomber— _Pay-pay I wish you could see this._  

“How—” Rose began but couldn't find the words to finish her sentence.

“A gambler never reveals his trade, my lady,” Lando said, giving her a wink.  

“There must be 300 ships in here,” Rose said.

“423 to be exact, the other 27 hangars have roughly the same amount, but the one on another undisclosed site has only 40 ships… but _those_ ,” Lando smiled, “I wish Han were alive to see those. They are, as you would say, more _his_ style, with the exception of one.” Landon paused then looked over to Leia. “I’m saving that one for a special occasion.”

Rose was having a moment. Her hands went to her knees in an attempt to steady herself.

“That’s—that’s thirteen—thirteen—”

“Thirteen thousand ships, give or take a few hundred.”

General Domadi stepped forward, “It's a start for sure, but we don’t have that many pilots, General Organa.”

Leia had been remarkably quiet since they had left the conference room and Rose couldn't wager a guess as to why other than the General was strategizing.

“We don’t have the pilots _yet_ , General Domadi. _Yet.”_ Leia’s gaze seemed distant as she surveyed the fleet before her, “I think I know where we will find some of them. I feel the rest will come when the time is right.

* * *

 

“What do you _mean_ , what am I going to do about it?” Ben growled.

Instead of an answer, Luke smirked, then sidestepped his nephew to look out the viewport at the blackened charred earth and the hazy crimson horizon. Ben couldn't help but wish the old man was still alive so he could slap him.

“Do you remember the last time we were here together?” Luke asked casually, as if he were merely speaking about the weather.

Ben glared. “Yes, of course, I do, I had to fight off at least three or four Terentateks while you were taking your sweet time decoding the inscriptions on the trap door.”

“It was only two, Ben. You're embellishing. Besides, I knew you could handle it.”

Ben rolled his eyes, “What’s the point of this conversation? I’m not interested in reliving the past, especially the parts that involve _you_.”

“If you ignore the past, you jeopardize your future,” Luke said in that same double-edged tone Ben had constantly heard under his uncle's tutelage, never knowing if it was sarcasm or true guidance.

Before he could come up with a witty retort, Luke turned to face him, “You need to wake up now, she needs you.”

Ben furrowed his brow in confusion just as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, as it always did when the Force gave— _a warning_. He didn't have a chance to say anything before Luke tapped him between the eyes and everything around him, even Luke evaporated into nothing. He tumbled backward but never hit the ground, instead, he kept going on and on, then faster and faster.

The fall felt like losing control of the Falcon that _one_ time he had decided to take it for a joy ride in the middle of the night, much to his mother and father’s horror—he had been nine at the time. The Quadex power core had gone on the fritz again, shutting down all power to the thrust which wouldn't have been a problem if he’d had made it through Chandrila’s atmosphere. The Falcon had taken a nosedive so abruptly Ben had thought he was going to hurl all over the cockpit. The crash would have killed him had it not been for his quick thinking—transferring the remaining power into the secondary tank. He had never been so relieved to see all those colored buttons light up across the console. He landed the Falcon safely exactly where he had taken it. And _then_ he had puked all over those colored buttons.

Ben had thought Han was going to kill him for sure. He remembered Han waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp. It had taken him a minute to gain the courage to look his father in the eye and when he did, he couldn't believe what he saw— _tears_. Han had been scared to death—not for the Falcon, but for _him_ , and unbelievably proud.

And as Ben Solo fell through the nothingness for what seemed like forever, his thoughts lingered on the past until he hit the bottom _hard._

Ben jerked awake, flailing his arms out in front of him and knocking a datapad to the floor with a loud clatter that echoed off the walls of his empty quarters. The shades were drawn, blocking out the hostile environment on the other side. The lighting in the room had a low lit blue tone, a preprogrammed amenity used mostly during space travel to keep track of the standard cycle. Ben had it installed due to Mustafar’s never-ending hue of red. He blinked, then glanced at the chronometer ticking loudly by his head: 0200. That couldn't be right—Luke was just here—he let out a long exhausted sigh and sat up, firmly planting his still booted feet on the floor with a _crunch_ ; the datapad had shattered. He was just about to comm a service droid for clean up when—

The chronometer suddenly stopped ticking, and an eerie silence settled over the room that made his skin pebble. The faint scent of hydraulic fluid tinged the air _but that couldn't be right._ Ben's mind performed mental gymnastics as he tried to recall all of the knowledge of ship mechanics passed down to him by his father. He tried to remember the layout of the castle—its doors ran on hydraulics… perhaps there was a leak, and the filtration system was carrying the scent.

He jumped up and quickly headed for the door, but the second his fingers touched the surface it vanished, and in its place was a murky silver wall. Confused and disoriented, he looked around the room but there _was_ no room… he was in a cave. A quiet breeze blew over his skin, chilling him to the bone. His bare hands wrapped around his biceps for warmth and then he realized the arm wraps were _wet_.

“Why… am—I—wet?” He grumbled, thoroughly annoyed, and ready to start stomping his way out of wherever the hell he had ended up. But then Luke’s annoying voice barreled through his head “Facing all that you fear will free you from yourself.”

Ben turned around, expecting to see Luke standing there but only saw a pool of water and more rocks.

Distantly, he could hear the sounds of an ocean but there was something else; it caught the edge of the wind as it blew gently through his wet hair. Ben closed his eyes and listened, allowing his senses to open, flow, to hear the will of the Force, hear—whispers a conversation— he opened his eyes and looked at the reflective wall. A fog lifted and withered away, leaving a small viewport. He took a determined step forward, wanting to know what it was the Force needed him to see.

“Rey,” he breathed, stunned.

Her face was partially visible, but her eyes were closed. She was slumped over the console of an old X-wing. He could hear the sound of a droid frantically beeping at her to wake up.

“This isn't real,” he mumbled, blinking dumbly as the full scale of what exactly he was looking at hit him. The cockpit was dark, nothing on the console illuminated except for the light of a white button that read ‘Auxiliary’. Next to it the oxygen levels—1%.

“She can’t be—” he paused, refusing to say the _D_ word out loud.

“Rey, wake up!” He yelled, not knowing if his words would reach her—if this was really _her_ , but he batted that idea away, he couldn't risk debating reality and visions at the moment, knowing that the veil had lifted between them before, it wasn't impossible for it to happen again.

When she didn't move he thought about his father—what it had felt like to feel him die. He couldn't go through that again, he wouldn't, not with his mother and not with Rey. He was about to tear through the mirror when she let out a loud gasp, sucking air back into her lungs but otherwise remaining motionless.

The relief he felt was short-lived when he realized where she was—or, rather, _what_ she was in. _Sand_ : but not the regular everyday Tatooine sand. If she didn't get out of that damn bucket of bolts she would go down with it.

His heart leaped into his mouth. He could feel it beating there as he watched her helplessly.

“Damn it, Rey, wake up!” he growled.  

Rey stirred, eyes still closed, but her hand rose to her forehead. It _ached_ —he knew it did, because so did his, and even though that thought registered he couldn't explain how. She reached up towards the sky, eyes fluttering behind closed eyelids. He could have sworn she was reaching for a hand but she found nothing but sand. The ship shifted forward and a tidal wave of sand began to pour in all around her, filling the small cockpit. It would be over in less than a minute—he had dealt with this type of sand before on Jedha with Luke—

“Rey, if you don’t wake up you’re going to drown, please listen to me, _sweetheart_.”

He didn't know why he said it, the word just fell out of his mouth. It was too late to take it back, but he was also too panicked to care because Rey was buried almost up to her neck.

“REY!” He screamed, feeling the full force of her name scrape against his windpipe.

Ben balled up his fist and sent it soaring into the mirror and for a fleeting second he thought he saw the whites of her eyes but before he could discern one way or another, his feet were pulled out from under him and he was being dragged away.

Frantically, he rolled to his back, only to find his ankle bound and chained, the metal links disappearing into the water and taking him along with it.

His hands slipped and slid as he tried to grasp onto anything—a rock, a crevasse—but it was no use. He fought with every ounce of energy he had to give but the Force was too strong.

“Re—”

Black inky water filled his mouth, silencing his cry as he plunged further and further into suffocating darkness.

The salty water burned his eyes but Ben was a fighter; he dove downward and grappled with the chain, ready to face whatever or whoever pulled him away from her.

A glowing red light flashed, temporarily blinding him as his hands hit the bottom, and then somehow he was right side up again. The abrupt change in direction threw his senses and his last bit of oxygen blew past his lips, pressure building, and his ears popped and clicked. Ben could feel his body beginning to contort from the lack of oxygen but he didn’t relent, tightening his grip, and then he broke the surface—or, rather, fell backward through it, landing on the cold hard floor of his room.

He gasped, sputtering as he sucked air back into his water-filled lungs. Ben drew ragged breaths and pulled himself up to his knees.

"Please," he pleaded to the floor with his eyes not yet open, hoping somehow she still could hear him, "Hear me, Rey, it's BEN!" 

But there was nothing but silence. Slowly he opened his eyes finding a puddle had formed beneath him, casting a reflection of his terrified expression back at him. His wet dark locks slowly dripped droplets of water into it and his face changed—no longer young and pale, but black and metal. Heavy modulated breathing filled the space around him. Instantly, Ben snapped his head up, his mouth falling slack at the sight of the menacing dark figure before him. In one gloved hand, he held a red lightsaber and in the other, the chain.

Ben's eyes briefly traveled down to his ankle. Still shackled. He looked back up to the black, soulless eyes of Vader's mask, and if his presence wasn't foreboding enough, his voice was.

“You fail her because you are _weak_.”

“Grandfather?” Ben asked, his voice strained and confused.

“That name has no meaning to me here. But who are you, child? What name do you give yourself?”

“Ben—Ben Solo,” he blurted out before he could fully comprehend what he was saying.

Vader tilted his head quizzically and took heavy-footed steps forward until he towered over his grandson, his heir. “Let the past die, _kill_ _it_ , if you have to. It’s the only way to become what you are meant to be.”

The words echoed in his head, flashes of the dreams, the visions, the girl in the flames flickering to life in his mind, and all at once Ben understood.

Vader took a step backward and then vanished in a cloud of ash and smoke. Ben blinked and the chain vanished. He was no longer soaked to the bone; his sheets were tangled around his legs, the datapad still broke into pieces strewn across the floor.

Ben pulled himself up to his bed and sat on the edge, resting his elbows on his knees. His fingers raked through his sweat-soaked hair, pushing it back from his face. Without a moment of reprieve, a debilitating pain shot through the right side of his head.

He squeezed his eyes shut, grasping his head with both hands, through gritted teeth he groaned, as the sharp ache ricocheted through his brain.  

_Tap—tap—tap._

“Supreme Leader,” Mitaka called from the other side of the door.

Ben had been combat enough to know a blow to the head, even though a helmet the pain could be intense.  Immediately his concern was not for himself but for Rey, could this be her pain was what he saw real? And as quickly as the pain assaulted him it was gone.

_Tap—tap—tap._

“Supreme Leader, Sir, it's urgent.”

Ben’s legs felt weak and wobbly as he stood, the after-effects of an adrenaline rush he had become all too familiar with over the years.

When he opened the door, Mitaka eyes widened, and he took a cautious step back and swallowed.


	6. Chapter 6

Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka joined the First Order at the youthful age of 16. He honestly didn’t think he had a choice when his father General Dopheld Mitaka Sr. had ordered him to step up or step out. Growing up on a star destroyer he learned the ins and outs of all the ships, he memorized all the regulations, but most of all he had become well versed in politics, and not the sort that involved a Senate. No, the type of politics Mitaka had come to know were of the more personal kind. High ranking officers constantly playing an unspoken game with one another. Power was all they craved, there was no true loyalty. Lies pass through hushed whispers around every empty corridor. Those lies turn in to half truths, and before you know it, someone was being demoted or worse.  He knew his name played a part in his rapid ascent up the chain of command, and it was only a matter of time before he took on a command position, considering most of the high order had perished on Starkiller base, including his father. He had expected a swift response to the attack, even as it had happened he had thought on his feet and take the few datapads that held the key to hyperspace tracking in Hux’s quarters. They had applauded him for his efforts in the days after. But Mitaka knew better than to revel in this minor accomplishment. Others too, as he also anticipated, took the opportunity to vie for higher ranks. And so he trusted no one, and kept the lowest profile possible. 

 

What he had not predicted was that he would be the _ new _   Supreme Leader’s personal liaison between him and the Grand Marshal. It was more of a hostile game of silence. Each equally despised the other, both avoided any private meetings if they could help it. Hell, they wouldn’t even comm each other, and he was forever their mediator. It was tiresome and juvenile. His father is probably rolling over in his grave — well if he had one. 

 

Alas, here they were, the two most powerful men in the known Galaxy bickering like two school children. 

 

But there was another surprise in store for the Lieutenant. He had grown to like the Supreme Leader. He had changed somewhat since the battle of Crait. His volatile temper had dampened—somewhat. The viewport on the bridge a few days prior had been the most destruction he had witnessed in almost a year. The fact he could rein it in and not send the entire bridge staff into the black abyss was a miracle. 

 

So when Mitaka had the misfortune to bear witness to a situation on the Finalizer, not some two hours prior, he felt the need to inform his boss. Not because he was duty-bound, but because he thought it barbaric even by First Order standards, and something told him that the Supreme Leader was unfortunately unaware of several of the Grand Marshals activities. Kylo Ren was still a terrifying man this was true, but he had initiated trade with formerly hostile groups, and in return for their loyalty, he had given them food, medicine, rebuilding materials, and even supplied a small labor force to systems who required extra aid. It wasn’t the type of support Snoke would have provided, where they either joined or perished. No longer were Stormtroopers used for peace by way of a blaster, they were under the control of the governments they were aiding, which was wonderful, but also proving to be deadly. 

 

Given freedoms and no longer being forced to kill, the Stormtroopers began to— wake up. Mitaka had no alternative way of describing it. Just like FN-2187, they changed. And because of this, the Marshal had ordered the extermination of any Stormtrooper who showed signs of nonconformity. 

 

Mitaka had just exited the lift down to the hanger after a brief meeting with the Commanders of the new incoming fleet when it happened. There were at least 19 stormtroopers lined up against a wall, while all the other battalions stood silently in parade rest. The new lead trooper SI-2374 demanded they remove their helmets. They were accused of smuggling other troopers out the escape pods and sending information to the enemy. Before they could argue their case SI-2374  gave a silent command, the wall behind them slid open. They didn’t even have a chance to scream or cry out as they were sucked out the airlock. 

 

Mitaka tried to keep his wits about himself and act as if it were just another day on the Finalizer as he boarded the command shuttle that would ferry him to the fiery hell planet below. As soon as they began the descent, he had to excuse himself and bolted to the refresher emptying the contents of his stomach. The moment they landed, he walked with purpose straight to the Supreme Leaders chambers. He would risk a brutal punishment for waking him but believed his feelings about Kylo Ren were rightfully placed. 

 

Mitaka even had a speech prepared, but it evaporated from memory at the sight of the dark Force warrior. His face was white as the snows on Hoth, there was no color in his lips, and his hair was dripping with what the Lieutenant could only guess was sweat. He looked ill, except that he wasn’t, the wild look in his eyes gave it away, he was afraid, and somehow that seemed more deadly.

 

“Sir, are you alright?” He asked, not knowing if he would immediately regret it. 

 

Kylo looked dumbfounded or annoyed Mitaka couldn’t decide. It was as if he remembered himself and straightened up to his full height; 

  
  


“What is it, Lieutenant?” 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


The static, accompanied by a garbled mixture of words had awakened the Grand Marshal in the middle of the night. 

 

“I got her, and her droid too.” 

 

Hux thought he had dreamt it, “Come again?”

 

“I got the Jedi girl and the BB unit orange and white, but I need an extraction, the ship took a hit, nothing around here to steal or worth buying if I want to make it off this rock.”

 

Had it been any other person Hux would have ordered their execution, he had to do that a lot here lately, but this annoyance finally had something to offer. 

 

“Where are you?” 

 

“Jakku.”

 

How odd the sand rat would return to that junk heap of a planet. Perhaps she was feeling nostalgic after he had annihilated her last nest. 

 

Hux looked at the star map; they had only just made it past Sullest. Their fleet had been expected within the next two days, but the new tech could make it only one. The excavation on Endor had been - lucrative, to say the least. He had only been given the timeline of three days to take the Supreme Leader by surprise, let him know he still commands the army. Nevertheless, he had made the right choice by giving himself breathing room. He could make the jump to Jakku and even have time to ruffle the dear leader’s feathers. 

 

“Send the coordinates. We will be there within the standard hour.” Hux finally answered with a smirk. But then — Wait a minute.

 

Surely, she would have put up a fight it couldn’t have been that easy, could it? Oh, make no mistake he wanted her dead, but preferred her alive, for now. 

 

“How did you get her? Is she even alive?” 

 

“Got lucky, I guess. She was too preoccupied with the droid to even notice me.”

* * *

  
  
  
  


Ben stood silently with his back to a very nervous Lieutenant as he told him what had transpired on _his_ flagship. The events of the Force vision still percolated in his mind as he thought back to past events when he had told Hux they would have been better off with a clone army. At the time he had made a comment to take a dig at the General and had no intention of telling him what could happen, and truthfully in a way, he had hoped for it if only to watch Hux fail before Supreme Leader Snoke. But there was no Snoke now, and Hux he knew would rather kill his own men than to own up to a mistake especially to his new Supreme Leader. Perhaps all of this had been his fault. He had allowed the Stormtrooper division leeway when it came to assisting newly acquired First Order loyalist. He should have known when they saw life as it could be they would no longer want to be in the ranks without a choice. Sure, some would stay because they had nothing and no one to go back to. The moment FN-2187 had disobeyed an order he had felt it, the rebellion would soon come. At the time it wasn’t his problem, and now that it was, he certainly didn’t think ordering troops by the dozens out an airlock would fix the issue if anything it would embolden them more just like it had when Hux destroyed the Hosnian system. 

 

When Mitaka grew quiet Ben turned to face him.

 

“Thank you, Lieutenant, is that all?” 

 

“No sir, the Marshal, and his fleet will be here earlier than previously thought. He told me to tell you, he…” Mitaka paused for longer than usual before telling him something dreadful, he could feel the young man’s tension and anxiety through the Force.

 

“He what,  _ Mitaka _ ?” 

 

Dopheld blew out a nervous breath before he started again. “He… he— destroyed the base on Lothal, but the Resistance and all high command escaped unharmed. They followed leads and..” Mitaka swallowed, “and a bounty hunter chased her to Jakku—he got her and is bringing her here so you can, and I believe his exact words were — deliver First Order justice yourself.”

 

Ben tried not to react to his words, but the thoughts of Rey in the sand and subsequent blow to the head he had felt soon after —

 

_ Had it been real after all?  _ But if Hux had her, then she was alive. 

The relief was short lived when he realized what would have to happen. The sequence of events tumbled through his mind all lining up carefully. He would have to kill Hux, and anyone else in the room — even Mitaka. Something twisted inside him at that thought he knew it wasn’t right, but where was the line, who could he trust? Everyone had failed him on that front, except Rey. She had his back; she had believed in him. 

 

**_You fail her because you are weak._ **

 

“When will they arrive?” 

 

“In one standard hour.” 

 

Ben considered his options, there were only a few, but as he looked at the young man who came to him the Supreme Leader, the one with the Force who had on more than one occasion choked him on a whim.

 

“Lieutenant, I would like you to return to the Finalizer before the Marshall arrives.” 

 

“Sir?” 

 

“I need you to get names of those who carried out execution orders on troops and have them sent to me immediately.”

 

“Right away, sir.” 

* * *

  
  


She wanted to open her eyes, but the moment the thought processed, she clenched her eyes shut. Damn sand.  The tiny grains of Hell had found their way beneath her eyelids, and with every twitch, she could feel them scrape against her cornea. If it weren’t for the headache, she’d use the Force to find water or anything for that matter to wash them out, as it were, with every lazy thud of Rey’s heart, searing pain shot through her temples causing every aching muscle to contract involuntarily. She fought to center herself to take in her surroundings despite the blinding pain. Her swollen cheek rested against a floor—cool to the touch and smooth—durasteel. The sounds of engines hummed soothingly beneath her ear, but she couldn’t discern precisely what it belonged to. She held on to the rhythmic sounds anchoring herself to the ground to keep vertigo at bay. What had happened? 

 

Rey could faintly recall that her name had been called just before — was it a hallucination, a result of the fumes from the badly damaged X-Wing?  Or… no, she couldn’t think like that, not now anyway, she had to figure out who or what had taken her and more importantly, why. 

 

An angry muffled conversation sounded from somewhere above her or through another door? 

 

Reach out with your feelings; she could almost hear Luke saying, but she found herself even now recoiling from the Force.

 

Since Crait, Rey had studied the ancient Jedi text the best she and Threepio could decipher, practiced meditation based on their instruction, reconstructed the lightsaber, and even indulged Finn with the occasional floating rock when morale was low. But never once had she stretched beyond her friends, never followed the threads of her feelings through the Force, even though at times she felt a compulsive need to do so because she was afraid, she could admit that here and now, lying bruised and beaten on a cold hard floor who knows where with gods knows who. 

 

Finding the string, she knew still tethered her heart to his, terrified her. Not because she believed it would give up her location, although that is precisely what she told herself—in the beginning. No, it was far worse than that. She would be forced to face him again and not knowing what she would find on the other end was somehow scarier than knowing the truth. If she could laugh right now she would, because had that not always been her fear—the truth? 

She cared for him, or some version of him she had seen only a glimpse of. It was stupid, this was stupid, it’s why she had wound up in this predicament in the first place. Not paying attention, not using the Force, always distracted. 

 

Thoroughly fed up with herself Rey took a deep breath and channeled the Force to touch the minds of her captives. Opening up the channels of the Force felt oddly satisfying in a way she had not expected, like seeing an old friend or taking tea with Leia— like home. Relief washed over her when she found nothing of Kylo Ren lurking beneath the currents, but at the same time, there was a tinge of disappointment which she quickly shoved aside, she would deal with all that later. Refocusing her efforts, she encountered two signatures both angry and highly agitated with— each other? But, before she could map out the cause of their dispute, a loud echoing metallic bang reverberated all around, vibrating the floor. Where they landing? Was this a ship? It was challenging to focus due to the pain in her temple still throbbing. 

 

“Look at this mess! I thought I told you I needed it in good health!”

 

“What else was I supposed to do, look what you put me up against!”

 

Mess? Were they referring to her? She was going to show them a mess when she took them both out with her— and quickly she realized her satchel was not secured at her side, which meant her lightsaber was not nearby, nor could she call for it without knowing how much time it would take to enter her hand. On Jakku you had to think quickly, and those who were not fast enough, well, like her they took a lead pipe to the head.  And where was BB-8!

 

_ “Calm, breathe, just breathe.” _

 

“Luke?” 

 

But there was no answer, and perhaps her captive had hit her harder than she thought because now she was talking to a ghost— no not even a ghost a voice in her head. 

 

“We have little time left, I need it cleaned up and ready for delivery.” 

 

“That’s like asking me to polish bantha poodoo.”

 

The sound of heavy boots charging across the floor and the following hiss of a door told Rey that one of the two were gone. 

 

Good, she could probably take one out on her own even if she couldn’t see and her head felt like it was stuck in a vice. 

 

“Finally, didn’t think he’d ever leave. You’re such a pretty little thing shame, that might leave a mark.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Hux cleared his throat when the footsteps in the hallway became louder. 

 

Ben glanced up at the Marshal who shot him a stern look and nodded for him to sit up. 

 

This time Ben did roll his eyes but compiled as an older man stepped through the monstrous durasteel doors. Dressed as you’d expect; hodgepodge armor, multiple blaster holsters attached at the thigh and a face marred with scars. 

 

The bounty hunter knelt before him. 

 

“My lord, I have what you seek.”

 

Ben sat back against the throne, willing himself to remain impassive and to uphold the same composer he had with Snoke, or Hux would be on to him. Not that Hux would be difficult to kill but if he had Rey, then he must certainly have her in Force restraints. He would not willingly put her in harm’s way. 

Perhaps that was why he did not sense her presence like last time. The second that his father’s heap of junk tossed her out into space, her Force signature burned so brightly it nearly took his breath away. 

 

The bounty hunter whistled over his shoulder. 

 

It was only now that the actual reality of what was about to happen hit him. A rush of adrenaline surged through his veins. Accompanied by fear, or was it elation? He didn’t have time to unravel the string of emotions that threatened to swallow him whole. All he knew was that in a matter of only seconds, he would be reunited with Rey. He practically stopped breathing when he heard the echo of boots walking in a perfect rhythm slowly grow louder. The unmistakable sounds of struggle paired along with them, unleashed an avalanche of guilt over his heart. 

 

But then he saw her— and as quickly as all the panic and anxiety had risen it equally subsided replaced by relief and then disappointment. 

 

The girl was absolutely— filthy. Her clothes were made for extreme heat but were worn and full of holes. She had sun-kissed skin, stringy brown hair, a bloody split lip. She was shackled and shaking like a leaf. 

 

She could be Rey, but she wasn’t. 

 

“Where did you find her?” Ben asked. 

 

“Jakku, my lord.”

 

No wonder, he thought. Her life had not been a kind one. He felt immense compassion for this girl because, in a way, she was Rey. This is the same life she had sentenced herself to because the truth was too painful to bear. 

 

Her wide young eyes looked at him. She wasn’t afraid of Hux or the bounty hunter, and from the looks of it, she put up a commendable fight judging by dried blood on the knuckles of her right hand. 

 

What in the Hell was the matter with Hux? He should know that this wasn’t the girl whose face had flashed all over the holonet. At least the image the First Order had come up with looked a little more like Rey. But before the question could leave his mouth, the bounty hunter took a step forward and smiled like a fat lothcat about to enjoy a meal. 

 

“I got something extra for ya your Supremeness,” he said, snapping his fingers in the air as if he was performing a sort of magic trick. 

 

A hollow metallic sound grated against the smooth onyx floor of the corridor.

 

Ben’s eyes narrowed on the doorway just as a round orange and white BB unit rolled into the throne room.

 

**_It’s in a droid, a BB unit._ **

 

Ben reached out carefully and touched the mind of his bounty hunter. He had watched an old beat-up X-wing escape from Lothal with a BB unit with this exact paint job. 

 

It all made sense now. Hux had been so eager to enact his revenge that he hadn’t thought to examine the girl more closely, not when she had the droid with her.

 

But there was one quandary Ben couldn’t solve. If the droid was here, then where was Rey? 

  
  
  
  
  


 

 


End file.
